Dancing In November
by Capucine
Summary: Lily's experienced a bad breakup with Amos Diggory and is feeling the sting. When James asks her out in her melancholy state, she says yes--on the condition that the relationship only lasts a month. Seventh year.
1. Prologue

****

Dancing In November

__

By Capucine

Prologue

It is, in a word, surreal. Surreal, to watch the world spin while she stands still. It is as if someone has sliced through her lifeline to the world, and as a result, isolated her in her own melancholy sphere while others keep on with their lives.

Automatically, she walks through the corridors, among the chattering body of students. She is aware of their conversations, but she doesn't hear them. She pushes aside dark red hair and takes a seat in the back of the classroom. 

What class was this, she wonders?

History of Magic, answers the reproachful autopilot of her mind.

Does it matter?

Her life hasn't always been this way. Once she'd been school-obsessed and flawless, the highest achiever in the school. Once she'd been warmed by thoughts of snowball fights and study groups in the library.

Now she avoids such direct confrontations with other people. It is frightening, how much this relationship has changed her.

How much she has let it change her. Once, boys like Amos Diggory wouldn't have been able to penetrate her so deeply. Once, Amos Diggory would have had the effect of a fruitfly on a horse.

How could things have changed so much?

Once she'd been optimistic and sunny, quick to point out the positive and forever denying the negative. 

She even has the distinct impression of having been happy. Once.

She misses those days, when the only ones to irritate her beyond relief were James Potter and his band of pranksters. It's not that everyone irritates her beyond relief now; it's that she seems incapable of irritation. She wonders which is worse.

She plays idly with her quill as Professor Binns begins the lecture. Hers and the translucent professor's are the only heads that do not move towards the door as four boys saunter in. Or at least, two of the boys saunter. One strides and the last cowers.

She looks up as someone waves a hand in front of her expressionless face. It is James Potter. He says something, but she can hear only a slurred sort of question, as if they were both underwater.

"What?" she says, her voice hoarse.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he repeats, gesturing at the empty seat to the right of her desk.

"Oh," she says. She glances back up at him, searches his inviting eyes. It is perhaps the first time she has seen the seductive, jocular side of him shuttered out. She makes a decision. "No."

He sits down. The other three boys have already taken their seats. Binns hasn't yet realized what has just taken place in his classroom; he merely continues monotonously about dragon hunting in the fourteenth century. 

Somehow she makes it through the lesson, fidgeting with the coarse threads of her quill. At last, the bell tones, managing to sound gloomy to her depressed ears. She picks up her bag and stands up, making her way to the door. 

"Evans."

She stops, turns around. James Potter is standing there, holding out her quill. She must have dropped it. She accepts it almost gratefully, the first emotion she has shown in days. 

"Thanks," she says.

"Anytime," he answers. "So, Evans... how about a date?"

She blinks. He asks her this almost every week... she wonders if it's only out of habit as of late. 

She can't go out with James Potter. What would her friends say, after all her snide comments about him and his band?

What had they been saying recently about Amos?

What did it matter?

She makes up her mind. "All right," she answers.

It's Potter's turn to blink now. "What?" he says, as if he hadn't heard her.

"I'll date you," she reiterates. After all, what does she have to lose? "I'll date you for a month. Nothing more."

"A month," he says. His expression is unreadable. "And after it's over?"

"It stops. No attachments," she says, adjusting her bag. "Those are my conditions."

"Okay," James says, looking down at her. He's too tall. Amos was never so tall. She kicks herself mentally for bringing Amos into this.

She says something about seeing him later at dinner and leaves the classroom without a backward glance. 

She hasn't been going to dinner. Sometimes the house-elves bring a tray to the tower for her these days. Why should she make an exception for James Potter?

Why, indeed.

As she climbs the stairs to her Arithmancy classroom, she wonders how it will all turn out. 

It will probably end badly. 

Probably.


	2. Evening Melancholy

****

Dancing In November

__

By Capucine

Chapter One

"So," said Sirius, as James took a seat beside him. "Feel like taking notes for me?"

"Not especially, mate," answered James.

"Damn, Remus won't either," said Sirius. He sighed and rummaged through his bag for parchment. "And McGonagall'll have my head if I don't."

"I know, it sucks when you have to take your own notes," said James distractedly. 

He'd been more than a bit surprised when she'd agreed. Honestly, she had insisted that the giant squid would have made a better date for so many years and suddenly she had to go and spring a "yes" on a bloke? It wasn't too considerate of her, in James's humble opinion.

Which is not to suggest he was even the slightest bit dissapointed at her reaction. Although her proposal _had _been a bit... strange, to say the least. A month.

A month?

Yes, a very strange proposal. He knew about her now-finished relationship with Amos Diggory, of course. The whole school knew, after Diggory decided the inside details on his love life needed to be made public. 

He'd predicted it would end badly, and it did. He knew Amos Diggory too well. _Far_ too well—for his liking. 

He could have killed the arrogant bastard for humiliating Lily. 

All the same, her conditions were odd and he wasn't sure what she expected of him. 

"James?" 

He jerked out of his pondersome stupor and focused on Remus's hand. "What?" he said.

"You were spacing out," said Sirius from his other side. "What's with you today?"

"Nothing," said James musingly.

"Are you sure, mate, because you really look as though you could use a—"

"Mr. Black," snapped Professor McGonagall from the front of the classroom. "Allow me to apologize for interrupting your conversation."

"It's quite all right, Professor," said Sirius jovially. "What can I do for you?"

McGonagall's nostrils flared. "What I meant, Mr. Black," she said levelly, "was that a detention lurks somewhere in your immediate future if you do not shut your mouth."

Sirius smiled. "Ah," he said. "I think I know what you mean."

*

Lily let herself collapse onto her bed. She didn't remember anything from her Arithmancy lesson, and for once in her life, she didn't even care. It had been a long day.

She should never have gotten involved with Amos Diggory. But it had been so _easy. _ Encouraged by her friends, envied by girls who had the sort of traditional beauty she'd always wished she had. 

Potter had known all along. Or maybe he had only hoped. 

Whatever it was, he had been right, and if there was one thing Lily Evans could not stand it was James being right while she was wrong. 

She sighed, and pushed dark red hair out of her eyes. It had probably been unwise to agree to dating James Potter, when she harbored such animosity for him, but what _did _she have to lose? Her heart had already been stolen from her and thrown back at her feet, like a hunted child.

The boy her friends had approved of hadn't worked. Perhaps it was time to try one they didn't.

She could feel the emotion welling in her eyes. She picked up her wand and muttered a spell. The lock on the door slid into place with a grating sound. She lay back and let the tears flow.

*

James took the stairs two at a time, and he still wasn't going fast enough. He'd have loved to be flying through the corridors rather than walking, but it was "against school policy" to allow broomsticks in the school, according to McGonagall. She'd told him so in third year, when she had given him his six hundred and ninety-eighth detention for flying in the castle. 

Head Boys didn't get detentions. It was one of the perks.

He muttered, "essence of wigglesnot" and clambered through the portrait hole into the common room. It took him all of five seconds to survey the room. There were a few people studying at the study tables, but none of them had a thatch of red hair or those enchantingly green eyes. 

She hadn't been around the library lately. That meant one thing. She must be lurking in her private room.

James glared fiercely at the stairs to the girls' dormitories. He and Sirius had discovered its sliding tendencies in the first term of their first year. Second term of their first year, they had found out that it was unCharmable. The staircase was magic-proof. Apparently, Godric Gryffindor had wholeheartedly approved of celibacy. 

James gave the staircase the one-over of someone who fully intends to find a way around his problem. The founders had meant for the girls' dormitories to stay strictly off limits to those of the male persuasion. Indeed, they had never foreseen any loopholes.

They'd never met anyone like James Potter.

James slid his wand out from his sleeve and glanced behind him at the studiers. A few of them were looking at him curiously, but he took the risk and muttered, "Accio Comet 140." After all, who was going to bother the Head Boy?

It was another of the perks

The broomstick sailed down the stairs up to the boys' dormitories and landed in James's open palm. He swung a leg over the handle and kicked off, flying over the stairs with ease. Furiously, the stairs melded into one another to form a slide, but James was already airborne. 

He didn't stop flying until he reached the very end top of the spiraling staircase. He'd never been up here before, but he assumed the floor plan was the same as the boys' dormitories, and his assumption turned out to be correct. He dismounted from the broom and leaned it up against the wall beside the door. Then, glancing at the brass "Head Girl" plate, he raised his hand and knocked.

*

Lily's head jerked up at the brisk rap on the door. Who the hell was bothering her now? She couldn't even remember the last time someone had come to _this _room. 

She glanced at the mirror at the head of her bed, fumbled for her wand, and muttered a handy little spell to rid her eyes of their redness. It was a charm she had been using a lot lately. Too much.

The knock came again. She turned her head to look at the door again and stood up, padding over, leaving her wand on the bed.

*

She hadn't answered, so he knocked again. This time the door swung open, and she looked blankly at him.

"Er... hello," said James, feeling quite silly now that he was actually face to face with her. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the broomstick leaning on the opposite wall.

"You flew," she said dully. "You find a way around everything, don't you?"

"Er...yes?" James said, not sure what was expected of him. 

Lily sighed. "You do. You have for all these years and you're still doing it."

"Am I?" 

"You found a way around me, didn't you?"

"Are you sorry about that?" James said. It was hard to breathe. He wondered what he'd do if she said 'yes'. Turn around, grab the broomstick and leave? He didn't know. He tried to breathe as she apparently debated.

"No," she said finally. He exhaled, trying not to make too obvious the fact that he had been holding his breath. She turned around and went back in the room, leaving the door open behind her. "You can come in," she said. So he did.

*

Lily sat down on her bed again, picking up her wand and twirling it between her fingers. She didn't look up as James followed her inside. She saw him glance around out of the corners of her eyes, but she was concentrating on the slim wood between her fingertips.

After a pause, she said, "Sit down," and he did, pulling the chair from her desk over. She was glad. She wouldn't have known how to react if he'd sat on the bed with her, the same way Amos had used to.

He sat the way he always did: lounging, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to condense his lanky form into the space provided for by the chair. His legs were crossed at the ankles and he crossed his arms comfortably over his chest. 

She put the wand down and looked up at him. "You know about Amos," she said; it wasn't a question, but rather a statement.

*

James blinked. "Yes," he said carefully, not sure what she was looking for.

She looked down at her hands, curled helplessly in her lap. She picked up the wand again, running her fingers down the length. "Yes," she said. "I think about him a lot."

James leaned forward, elbows resting languidly on his knees. "That's normal," he said, feeling sorry for her. 

She nodded. "I don't know... why he did it... that way," she said slowly. "I don't know... why he had to make it such a... such a..."

"Public display?"

She nodded again, grateful for the interception. "I don't know why," she repeated. 

"I don't know," he lied. Lily, he reasoned, probably wouldn't take too kindly to his calling her ex-boyfriend a cold bastard when the wound was so new.

"Yes, you do," she said suddenly, looking up at him. "You've known all along. You knew he was—he was—"

She was gripping the wand so tightly that her fingertips were white. James reached over and gently pried it from her grasp, setting it down on the bedside table. She hugged her knees to her chest, as if she was trying to hold herself together. 

There was silence for a few seconds, and then James said, "This weekend's Hogsmeade's Thanksgiving Carnival."

Silence.

Hesitation.

"Okay," she said. She looked up at him. "I'd like to."

He grinned openly at her. "Excellent."

The door opened, and a house-elf came trotting in, followed by two more, who carried a tray laden with, it seemed to James, a helping of everything from the usual dinner table. He was glad that the house-elves were looking after Lily.

Lily looked at him. She turned back to the house-elves. "Enough for two tonight, please, Gabby."

*

Author's Note: Ooookay! 'Tis Chapter One, and I hope it was muchly enjoyed. I had a dream last night that I was J.K. Rowling, and I went around persecuting all these people for stealing my characters. Fortunately, I did not file a lawsuit against _me. _In other words, they're not mine; standard disclaimers apply. 

All who reviewed the prologue, thank you so much! It was much more successful than I anticipated... 

Aniangel: I'm glad you think it's a refreshing change! I always get tired of same old, same old... Thanks!

Kala Black: Eesh, I'm flattered. *blush* Thank you so much! Please keep reading. 

Princess Pixie Ice: Oooh, I kept somebody from going to bed—yay! Sorry... I'm a little high off Skittles at the moment. Thanks for the compliments! 

Cricketlover: Sorry it took a while to get this posted... my computer wouldn't update it to HTML format, so I had some issues with that. Keep reading!

LilyE: Thanks! And thanks for the good luck, too... I needed it!

Me: Here 'tis! Enjoy!

LiL'AnGel1011: Eeep, you people are too nice. Thanks so much!

Y Kuang: Yours was possibly the most helpful review I've ever received. (!) Thank you for your support, and I hope you like Chapter One! Please let me know what you think! And I know exactly how you feel about _that _kind of review... 

Thanks, everybody. Keep it up, s'il-vous plait! I thrive on feedback. Oh, and I need to know what you guys think about the constant switching between James and Lily. It's a technique I haven't really tried before, so I need to know if I pulled it off. Thanks again!


	3. A Spot Of Quidditch On One Hand, A Spot ...

****

Dancing In November

__

By Capucine

Chapter Two

Lily woke early the following morning. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded into the bathroom, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail and donning the customary black robes. She opened the window and let the brisk autumn air play over her face. 

She felt oddly light-headed—but then, she often felt that way in the morning, before all her anxieties had caught up with her. It was a Saturday, though, which meant no classes. For once, she was glad. No classes meant no pretension. Not as much, at least.

Turning away from the window, she washed and refilled the water dish of her owl, Egg. The bird regarded her with an interested eye, but made no comment. 

Replacing the water dish, Lily glanced at the clock. It was far too early for breakfast, but she had no pressing urge to study or even read. She wandered back over to the window.

It was quite a nice view. It overlooked the grounds, with the Quidditch pitch off to the left and the forest bordering the right. In the predawn fog there wasn't much to be seen, but on a clear day, she could have watched a match from this room and seen every play.

Sometimes, Amos would be up at this time, practicing his flying, circling the goalposts. He had always wanted to beat James Potter in the worst way. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She needed to stop letting him invade her thoughts. 

Her heart leapt in her chest as she caught sight of a figure in midair over the golden hoops. She could feel it racing, thought her whole body was being jolted by its intensity. Then she caught a flash of red as the figure turned and raced exultantly down the field.

Red.

Not yellow.

She sighed in relief and turned toward Egg's cage again, thinking to let the owl out, but she was barely halfway across the room when she turned sharply on her heel again and stared out the window.

Red.

James.

She narrowed her eyes. As if he knew he was being watched, James let off a bit of energy and went speeding through the hoops as if he was a human Quaffle.

After a few seconds, Lily opened Egg's door and let him out. The bird clambered ungracefully from her hand to the window ledge and flapped his way into the air.

She half expected the bird to go toward the pitch, but only because she was finely tuned to irony. Instead, Egg flapped determinedly off to the Forbidden Forest. She watched him until he was nothing more than a distant brown speck in the mist.

Without thinking, she meandered downstairs, trying to be as silent as possible. She could hear the snores coming from the dormitories. In a way, she missed dormitory life, missed the companionship. But she wouldn't have given up her room, not when it came down to it.

She pushed open the double doors of the castle and walked out into the cool, dewy air. 

It was cold, but she didn't mind.

*

James took a sharp dive to let off some steam, pulled up inches from the turf, and landed neatly. He leapt off the broom and unlatched the leather trunk that held the Quidditch balls. He gripped a club and tore open one of the Bludgers' bindings. Furiously, it flew high into the air and then came spiraling back towards him. He gave it a good solid whack and sent it shooting off through a goalpost. 

He kicked off from the ground again and played a fiery one-on-one game with the irascible Bludger. 

Since he had received the captainship over the summer, he'd felt it wise to become as proficient at each position as possible. He'd been getting up early to come out here—even earlier than Amos Diggory, who'd always wanted to beat James and would (in James's humble opinion, of course) never succeed—to practice. 

Sometimes he thought he'd matured too much for his own good. Honestly.

*

Lily wandered onto the springy grass and climbed the stands. She watched James battle with the Bludger, hoping he didn't get killed in the process. She jerked her mind out of its semi-awake state. Had she just hoped something negative _wouldn't _happen to James Potter? 

She shivered, and withdrew her bare hands into her sleeves. 

*

A ray of pale light arced across the field, glinting off the golden hoops. James swung around in midair, squinting at the rising sun. He grunted as the forgotten Bludger grazed his right arm and caught it with his left. Wrestling it to his side, he guided the broom to the ground with his legs, his hands both occupied with the struggling Bludger.

At last, he secured the enraged Bludger in the trunk and straightened up. He looked up, only to glimpse a pale face watching him detachedly from the stands.

Lily.

He picked up his broom and jogged over, leaving the trunk lying forlorn in the grass. He had to climb all the way to the top of the bleachers to reach her, and she didn't look inclined to meet him halfway. Finally, he stopped in front of her, offering a hand to help her up.

She took it, and he swore violently before turning back to her. "My God, Lily," he said, picking up her other hand and trying desperately to warm the freezing limbs. He dropped them for a moment to undo the clasp on his cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders. She shivered and leaned against him.

*

She tucked her hands inside the scarlet cloak and huddled into his chest, tangibly feeling the warmth of his body spreading to hers. She felt him hesitate, then wrap his arms around her. 

It felt good to be taken care of again.

Which didn't mean she needed anyone to take care of her. Lily was an outspoken feminist and believed wholeheartedly in independence, in the truth that women don't need men.

Still, they're nice to have around.

And it felt good to be taken care of again.

For a moment, she even forgot that her comforter was James Potter. And when she realized it, she also realized that—for a moment—she didn't care.

This wasn't going to be so bad after all.

*

Author's Note: Yay! Chapter Two at your service. It's a bit shorter than One but I just thought that was a good place to stop up there, so... but next chapter will be extra long, because I'm planning to do the Thanksgiving Carnival then. Standard disclaimers apply, of course.

Once again, thank you all so much! I can't tell you how happy these reviews make me...

It's a bit shorter than One but I just thought that was a good place to stop up there, so... but next chapter will be extra long, because I'm planning to do the Thanksgiving Carnival then. Standard disclaimers apply, of course.

Once again, thank you all so much! I can't tell you how happy these reviews make me...

LilyE: Heehee! I wrote! And I hope I got it up in time...

WolfGurl18: Thanks! And yay! Cookies! Sugar high, here I come!

Fiery Phoenix: Yeah, I wouldn't have thought Amos would be so bad either... but then, I didn't think James would be a jerk in his fifth year, and according to Rowling he was. People can change, I guess. Thanks for respecting my author rights (oooh, it feels _so _cool to say that!) and for your input! Keep reading!

Sarah: Aaah, thank you! I got this up as soon as I could... hope you enjoy it!

Agloechen: Yeah, it was just the prologue that was present tense. Everything from Chapter One on will be in past tense—so I's glad you like that way better! Thanks for your review!

Cricketlover: Thanks! I'm definitely shooting for something unique... here it is! Enjoy!

Shukhftgpoteerharry: Yes, I definitely know what you mean about fics that drag on and on. Thanks for your support and keep reading!

Twelvegrimmauldplace: Thanks! And yes, this ship is the _best. _No competition!

Senna: Don't worry, Lily'll get happy again! Hee, I use that phrase all the time—about something rocking my socks... enjoy Chapter Two!

Lj4ever: Heh, I love your penname. And thank you so much! ::blush:: 

Princess Pixie Ice: Heehee yes! I've run out of Skittles now so I'm working on SweetTarts instead! I'm beyond help, honestly... thanks for your support and keep it up!

Review, por favor! I'm a happy bunny... 


	4. The Hogsmeade Thanksgiving Carnival

****

Dancing in November

__

By Capucine

Chapter Three

There was light. Bright light.

There was warmth. Too much warmth. Too hot.

There was something soft on top of him. He gave it an experimental shove and it fell off. 

There was noise. Indeterminable noise. Voices, maybe. He couldn't tell what they were saying.

He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Each furrow in his forehead was like a river of irritation, his expression a magnificent scowl. It was the kind of expression Tarzan might wear, to scare away some frightful jungle beast.

But he didn't know who Tarzan was.

The voices stopped. 

He sensed eyes on him.

He abandoned his close-eyed-glare and pretended to be asleep.

There were footsteps. Approaching. His shoulder was shaken abruptly.

"Sirius, wake up, you lazy bugger," said a familiar voice.

Blearily, he opened his eyes. A shaft of sunlight hit him head on, and he yelped and covered his face with the pillow.

"Come on, Padfoot," said Remus. "Hurry up, or they'll have stopped serving breakfast by the time we get there."

He adjusted his grip on the pillow over his eyes, shutting his eyes fiercely. He wasn't about to give in that easily.

Remus sighed. "Peter, get his other leg," he said. 

Next thing he knew, he was being dragged feet-first out of his nice, comfortable bed. Limb by limb, he hit the ground. His head fell onto the carpeted floor with a dull thunk.

It was most unpleasant. 

He stood up, glared at Remus and Peter, and threw the pillow back on the bed, after successfully resisting the urge to throw it at his mates. Then he pulled on some clothes and ran his fingers through his hair. Finished with his customary morning ordeal at last, he trotted down the stairs, with Remus and Peter at his heels.

The first thing he noticed when he sat down at the Gryffindor table was that there were no more chocolate croissants left. This was very dissatisfactory. He was forced to walk all the way over to the Ravenclaw table and charm the pants off of some fifth year whose name he didn't even know in order to get Ravenclaw's bowl of chocolate croissants. There were three left. Perfect. He ate them all, amid distraught stares from Remus and Peter. 

Finally, he realized what was wrong with the morning. "Where's James?"

Remus shrugged, but a seventh year girl (Sirius was sure he could have remembered her name if he'd only had a few minutes) turned around, saying, "He's taking Lily to the Thanksgiving Carnival, didn't you know?"

Without waiting for an answer, she flipped her brown curls over her shoulder and turned back to her friends.

Sirius shook his head. If James wanted to hang out with some little bookworm instead of his mates, that was just _fine _with Sirius. Just fine.

*

The crisp scent of autumn was comforting, and so was the cheerful crunch of brittle leaves underfoot. They were a reminder that some things never change. _And some things do, _thought Lily, smiling a little at the thought. Being a witch didn't stop her from enjoying some Muggle things, namely movies.

"Have you ever seen a movie?" she asked curiously.

"A what?" said James, puzzled.

"A movie," Lily answered, smiling quietly. "Muggles make them."

"What're they like?"

She pondered for a moment. "It's hard to explain," she said finally. "But we'll have to go to one sometime."

"Sounds good to me," said James. 

They were walking along the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, which was in full regalia for the Thanksgiving Carnival. There were leftover enchanted jack-o-lanterns whose expressions changed (slightly sporadically, now that it had been nearly a month since Halloween, but in October they had been magnificent) and charmed cornucopias which consistently spat out vegetables at passersby. An owl in a turkey costume sat sullenly on the sign of the post office.

Lily shivered, despite her warm winter cloak. James had insisted on going back to the tower to get it, so they'd tiptoed back upstairs, realizing how early the hour still was. Then Lily had made some offhand comment about how it would have been nice to have wandered straight into Hogsmeade early, free of the strangling crowd of other students. James had grinned at her cheekily, said _something _to a statue of a hump-backed witch (at first she'd wondered if he'd gone a bit mad, talking to inanimate objects as he was), and then the hump opened up and James had taken her hand and led her straight into Honeydukes.

She shivered again, and before she knew it, she'd been steered gently but firmly into the Three Broomsticks.

"Butterbeers, dears?" asked Madam Rosmerta kindly as they sat down.

"Yes, please."

*

By midmorning, the rest of the upperclassmen of Hogwarts had started to filter out to join them. The chatter of the people around them was, oddly, comforting and diminishing simultaneously. 

Lily and James went to see a puppet show, which fascinated Lily, who had never seen a wizarding puppet show before. The puppets were animated, charmed to move around and speak, enacting their own show, and the trees in the background were really growing, dropping felt leaves and budding new ones. When the stuffed turkeys took their bow and fell limply behind the puppeteer's stand, James suggested they go to an early lunch, to avoid the masses of students that would soon be declaring their hunger. Having had no breakfast, Lily was agreeable, so they trooped off to a quiet café behind the post office. 

"There's a Quidditch match coming up, isn't there?" Lily asked as they ordered. 

"Yeah," said James, turning to grin at her. "Against Hufflepuff. It's next Saturday."

"Oh."

"You should come."

"Maybe I shall," said Lily, even though she wasn't in the habit of attending matches. 

It was good food, and they spent a few moments in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable silence. It was a new feeling, being able to maintain a silent and still comfortable atmostphere. It was _companionable_ silence, which was a phrase Lily had only ever heard in books and had never experienced firsthand. 

"I need to swing by Honeydukes today," said Lily after a while. 

"Excellent," James said. "Zonko's is over there. I need some more Dungbombs."

"You're incorrigible, did you know?"

"Well, what are _you _doing in Honeydukes?"

"I've run out of Fizzing Whizbees," Lily said plaintively. "I give them to the first years for being good."

"What, for being quiet when people are trying to study?"

"Sure."

"Chuck a Dungbomb at them, they'll never make noise again," said James, taking a bite. "That's what I do."

"You're joking, right?"

"If you like."

They left the café just as it started to fill up. Wading through a group of excited third-years, they made their way over to the extravagant candy shop. Luckily, it wasn't very crowded. The store's only patrons presently were a few sixth-years buying some Cockroach Cluster, giggling about whatever dastardly purpose they intended to use it for. 

"Will that be it?" inquired the woman behind the counter politely. She caught sight of James, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Why, _hello,_ Mr. Potter."

"Hey," said James distractedly, inspecting the _Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Bean—New and Exciting Flavors _sign that was hanging on the cash register. 

"I haven't seen you around lately, James," said the woman, reaching up to tweak her blouse into a more revealing position. 

"Not surprising," said James coolly. He gestured at the Fizzing Whizbees on the counter. "That'll be it, Ms. Hawkins."

"It's Miss, James," said the woman, trying to look demure.

Lily was getting fed up. "Yes, well," she said. "Could you please ring that up?" 

The woman glared, but she grabbed the Whizbees and punched some buttons on the cash register, which promptly spat out some numbers and a gurgly "thank you for choosing Honeydukes and have a nice day!"

They walked out, understandably brisk. Lily was struggling with her emotions. She'd let them get the better of her back there, and she shouldn't have. She shouldn't be so angry with another woman for hitting on James. He was _James. _ He'd probably been born being hit on. More importantly, he was no one for whom she cared to be jealous.

On an impulse, she reached over and slid her hand into James's. He glanced down, startled, and interlocked his fingers with hers.

"Holy—" said James, cutting off the curse abruptly. He stopped and lifted Lily's hand to eye level—to his eye level, which was considerably higher than Lily's head. "You're freezing."

"I'm okay," said Lily defensively.

"Listen, love, there are some temperatures the human body is never supposed to experience," said James, taking off his cloak for the second time that day.

"You don't have to—"

"It's all right. I'm too warm," he said, settling it over her shoulders. She agreed reluctantly, pulling it tighter around her chest.

"Well, well, well."

The familiar voice stopped her heart in its tracks. She forced herself to look up. James had tensed, and he and Amos Diggory were looking at each other with the expressions they reserved for each other. Neither was entirely pleasant. There was silence for a few moments while they surveyed the other.

"Perhaps you're not aware, Diggory," said James in a voice as cold as Lily felt. "When you approach someone, you're supposed to say something. It is not generally deemed socially acceptable to just stand there."

"Go to hell, Potter."

"Not before you."

Amos snarled and lunged. James dodged the blow and grabbed the Hufflepuff's arm as it went past his head, and with a simple, effective twist, sent Amos sprawling to the ground. 

Struggling to his feet, Amos turned to Lily. "Lily," he said, smiling beautifically at her. "My Lily flower. I've made a horrible mistake, but I know it now. Any chance for forgiveness, flower?"

She stepped back, away from him. The tears were threatening to fall, but she held her chin high. "Get away from me," she whispered. 

He stared at her. After a long minute, he turned on his heel and walked into Honeydukes, and Lily watched him go.

"Can we go back to the castle?" she asked, trying to regain her composure.

"Of course," said James. His voice was an odd mix of compassion and anger. They were walking through the doors when James said, "I'm sorry."

She turned to him, questioning.

"I shouldn't have provoked him," he explained.

She started walking again, her hair starting to slip from its ponytail. "It wouldn't have mattered," she said simply. James sighed and caught up with her in two long-legged steps. 

"Hot chocolate?" he offered.

"We won't be able to get it until dinnertime," she said, confused.

James grinned down at her. "You name it, I can get it," he said. He walked up to a portrait of a bowl of fruit and placed a hand over the pear. Lily's jaw dropped of its own accord.

"Shall we?" he said, and they walked into the kitchen. The cocoa was good, especially with all the whipped cream the house elves added. Gabby let them taste the pasta salad that she was making for dinner. James told her stories of the Maurauder's exploits between bites, marking the first time she'd laughed at all in days, and the first time she'd laughed so hard in years.

Her sixth-year self would have been horrified to have seen her seventh-year self sitting in a kitchen drinking hot chocolate and eating pasta salad with James Potter, and even laughing at James Potter's stories, all of which at which her sixth-year self would have turned up her nose.

Mentally, Lily told her sixth-year self to go to hell, and settled in more comfortably in the worn wooden chair.

*

Author's Note: *sigh* At last I found time to get this up! Here's the Thanksgiving Carnival, and just in time, too! Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! Personally, I'm thankful that Rowling hasn't yet come after me with flaming knives to punish me for my abysmal disclaimers. Standard ones apply, by the way.

Couldn't ever thank you all enough for all your lovely help. You really help buoy my enthusiasm and drive for writing!

Diane: Oooh, thanks! Sorry it took so long... 

Ruth3: Definitely L/J forever—you're so right! And sorry, I've been so busy with school and band...

Fanciful Sovereign: Heh, I love your pseudonym. Thanks for telling me that; I was afraid I was the only one who related to Lily! At least, _my _version of Lily. 

Toriisen: Thanks! The whole thing with Amos is kind of complex. I think you'll find out a little more about his character in this particular fic (I've made him rather bumptious), but let me know if you're still wondering and I'll try to explain it next chapter.

Padma: Heehee... don't worry, I'm a romantic at heart.

Enna Seawave: Thanks for your support! I seem to have made you ponderous—was the "hmm" a good or a bad? Hee!

Agloechen: I know, I know... *pats on back* Don't worry, I'll make it all happy in the end. Lily's just confused. Also, I was getting tired of all the fics where Lily's perfect and James is the jerk. So Lily's not perfect in this, but she's going to learn. I promise! See, pinky swear and everything.

I thrive on feedback. Feed me, feed me, feed me... heh, just saw that play recently. It's still fresh in my mind, as you can see. But I digress—review, please!


	5. Westmount 6

****

Dancing In November

__

By Capucine

Chapter Four

"Come on!" she said, tugging on his hand. "Hurry!"

"What's all the rush?" James asked, laughing as he followed her out of the castle. If it had been cold the past days, it was positively frigid now. Protectively, he settled her scarf around her neck more snugly. Lily grinned at him and paused in her hurried dash to—well, to where James knew not—to plant a lightning-quick kiss on his lips. Then she promptly grabbed his hand and started running again.

"Whoa," said he, seizing her around the waist. "That was nice, but it didn't last as long as I'd have liked."

So saying, he kissed her fully, then made his way down her jaw and to her neck, thereby dislocating the scarf he had only just adjusted. He felt her pulse race under his mouth even as she pushed him away playfully.

"We're going to be late!" Lily said worriedly. She made to take his arm and rush off.

"Wait, wait," he said. He readjusted the scarf and licked a snowflake off her nose.

"James!" she admonished, but she was smiling, much as she was trying to hide it. "We're going to be _late!"_

"Whatever it is will still be there, love," said James soothingly.

"But we'll be late," moaned Lily.

"All right, all right," he gave in, trying to breathe normally as they raced. Honestly, the girl didn't work out at all, and here she was, dodging through the Hogsmeade holiday crowds while _his _sides, with all their Quidditch training, were threatening to heave.

It must, James decided, be a Muggle thing.

Suddenly, Lily stopped, and turned to him with a maniacal gleam in her emerald eyes. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?" she said.

"Er—yes?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "And these are _certainly _desperate times. We're _definitely _going to be five minutes late as it is! Granted, they usually don't start until about fifteen minutes after time, but... never mind. All right, there's a shopping center right next to the—to where we're going. We'll Apparate in a changing room on the count of three, okay?"

"Lily—"

"One—"

"I have a question—"

"Two—"

"What's a changing room?"

"Three! _Wh—"_

*

When Lily opened her eyes, she was staring at James's foot. She knew it was James's, because she didn't know anyone else who would write "L.E." and "Marauders Forever" on the bottom of his shoe. Her head seemed to be resting, rather uncomfortably, on one of those slabs of wood that jut out from the wall which aren't really supposed to be sat on—but which are constantly sat on anyhow, and which occasionally make a very disturbing creaking noise when sat on, causing the sitter to leap up and paste an innocent look on his face, in case the sales attendant comes bursting in. 

James, it seemed, was crumpled entirely on op of Lily's head.

The slab creaked ominously, and there was a flurry of arms and a scramble of legs. Eventually, once they'd claimed all their respective limbs, James and Lily stood across from each other.

"Where the hell _are _we?" asked James, while Lily simultaneously used her sternest voice to say, "It's a miracle we didn't splinch ourselves!"

There was a pause. Then Lily said, "We're in a changing room."

"What in bloody hell is a changing room?"

"Er," said Lily, "a place to change."

James looked at her in consternation. "A place to try on clothes," she clarified.

He decided to accept this explanation in order to pursue _other _activities. But he'd barely let his lips settle on hers before there was a knock on the door.

A lot can be determined about a person—and a situation—by an interpretation of a knock. This one was brisk and no-nonsense, the sort of knock that makes a mischief-doer freeze in his tracks. It was the Professor McGonagall equivalent of a knock. Presumably, the person on the other side of the door was the Muggle equivalent of Professor McGonagall, which made James suspect he would shortly wish he was somewhere else. Somewhere quite far away, preferably.

But Lily took a step and opened the door, before James could hiss a suggestion of merely doing the dishonest—moreover, dangerous—thing and DisApparating. Standing outside the changing room was a very short, very angry brown-haired woman who was wearing some sort of apron and glaring furiously up at them.

"Only one person in the changing room at a time!" she barked. "And please refrain from using the changing rooms for any and all purposes except for the trying on of store merchandise. _And _the men's changing rooms are across the hall!"

"Sorry!" said Lily, offering an apologetic smile as she seized James's hand and dashed out of the changing rooms, through of the women's department, past the jewelry counter and out the store's doors.

James had just enough time to read the words "Westmount 6" on the sign before Lily dragged him through the doors of a large building directly next to the shopping center. Once inside, she looked around wildly before leading him over to a booth. Sitting behind the glass, in front of some strange electronic device, and looking bored, was a man in a maroon uniform, wearing a sort of headset.

"Two for Rundown, please," said Lily to the man, who hit some buttons on the electronic device, took a piece of paper from the witch, and handed her some other pieces of paper. 

James furrowed his brow as they walked away. "Was I supposed to understand that?" he asked, but she merely smiled, took his hand, and led him into a dark room.

Dark rooms were something, at last, that James understood. He _liked _dark rooms. He was about to say so, when a voice he didn't recognize said loudly, "In this limited-time offer, you can get a free Hot Tamales when you buy a medium popcorn and a large Pepsi!"

He turned toward the front of the room, where a huge screen was showing a picture of a drink, a bag of popcorn, and a box of candy. The man holding the food wasn't moving. At all. 

He sighed. _Scratch on the understanding, then,_ he thought.

Lily pulled him into a chair. She was positively glowing. "This is great," she said. "I haven't been to one of these since last summer. And it's got the Rock in it."

James blinked. "What's one of these?" he asked. "And what's so special about a rock?"

"Not _a _rock," she said. "_The _Rock. He's a wrestler. And an actor. And this is a movie."

She looked pleased with herself, and James couldn't help but think how adorable she was when she was happy. "Wrestlers," he said. "I've heard of them. And I don't like them. They generally have larger biceps than I do."

Lily grinned. "It's all right. The Rock's head is too small for his body. And he's too bulky. Not that I'm not fully appreciative of him, or anything."

"Appreciative?" James echoed. "Maybe we should go to another movie. One without attractive men in it, preferably."

"Shhh!" said someone behind him, and he glanced up to see the room's dim light fading.

Lily settled into her seat as the movie started. 

She wasn't sure how she felt about James. She'd never been in a relationship that progressed to this stage so quickly. They seemed to have skipped the intermediate stages, the ones with awkward silences, horrible kisses, tentative smiles. 

It could have been the boy himself. There was something about James, some indescribable factor that put people around him at their ease and that was as much a part of him as his black hair and strong hands. 

She was pulled out of her reverie as James draped a long arm around her shoulders. She played with the tips of his fingers as she turned her attention back to the movie—and the Rock, who was currently kicking the asses of several pro-football players.

*

"I wouldn't mind knowing how to fight like that."

They were back in Hogsmeade, back with the crowds of their own kind, back in the hustle and bustle of frantic Christmas shoppers. Much to Lily's relief, they hadn't been missed from the customary Hogsmeade weekend, and the group hadn't returned to Hogwarts yet when they had returned from their rule-breaking but entertaining and educational expedition.

"No," said Lily flatly. "You're enough of a menace as it is."

James had a faraway look in his eyes, one he'd had on and off since they stepped out of the theater. "I am not," he retorted. Then he grinned. "Well, okay. Maybe."

"I'm cold," Lily said, and without further ado she ducked into the Three Broomsticks

The bar was full to the brim with red-nosed Hogwarts students, and it wasn't long after they sat down at an empty table that three familiar figures threaded their way over. 

"Well, well, look who it is," said Sirius snidely as they stopped in front of the table. Remus and Peter pulled up chairs. "I'm going to get the butterbeer."

"What's up with him?" James inquired.

A smile tugged at the corners of Remus's mouth. "He's jealous," he said. 

Peter nodded, his watery eyes eager. "He says you're always somewhere else these days."

James steepled his fingers. "Easily remedied," he remarked enigmatically.

Sirius returned with five bottles, and he set them unceremoniously in the center of the table. 

"So, Padfoot," said James. "How about a spin on my Comet 140 later?"

Sirius's eyes lit up. "You're the best mate _ever,_" he said enthusiastically, clapping James on the shoulder. "That thing is the _shit._ Oak inlay, you say?"

Remus shook his head. "I think Sirius is bipolar," he muttered to Lily as James elaborated on the finer points of his broomstick.

Lily took a swig of butterbeer. "It would explain a lot," she agreed. "Are you feeling all right?" she added, noticing that Remus was looking rather pale.

He regarded her calmly. "Oh, yes," he said. "I'm fine."

She didn't believe him, and he knew it.

*

Author's Note: Ah, the satisfaction. And the shame. I think I liked them better when they were miserable. Standard disclaimers apply, obviously. Sorry it took so long—my dad had to reinstall my operating system and I lost my HTML converter when he did, so I haven't been able to post. Luckily I've finally been able to reinstall that, but my writing built up quite a bit over the delay. I'm updating two things today, and posting a new one-shot as well. Crazy, isn't it?

Also--Westmount 6 really is a movie theater in London. According to the Internet, at least. And all the movies they're showing (at the moment, at least) are straight out of Hollywood. ;)

Thanks go to:

Ruth3: ::blush:: You're so sweet. Thanks, especially for understanding about school. Homework is the bane of my existence. 

Princess Pixie Ice: Oops. I hope you didn't forget, but my update was by no terms "soon", so I suppose I'll have to take what I get. J Thanks for everything!

Ivy: I agree; Amos is a big meanie who might as well have "dumbass" tattooed to his forehead. Haha... keep reading!

Pittsy: Thanks for your support! I'm having a lot of inspiration for this story, which is probably thanks to all you wonderful reviewers... 

Toriisen: Nope, the birthday's not 'til June... heh. And if _I _rock, you do even more for reviewing. 

Black-Rose1212: Looks like you got your wish. ::wrinkles nose:: Not sure I did the fluff-ness very well at all, though. Let me know what you think!

Soccergurl: I know, male protectiveness is just _so _cute. Which is why I love James—I can see him being that way so easily. Thanks for reviewing!

Shadowed.phoenix: Wow. That was really flattering—thanks! ::feels all warm and bubbly inside:: 

Fanciful Sovereign: ::grin:: Sirius is happy now, so that's a good. And now that Lily's met the other Marauders under more amiable circumstances, you can count on him being in the story more.

Enna Seawave: Sorry for the updating delay—blame my dad! Or rather me, for accidentally deleting files I needed for my OS, thus causing my dad to have to reinstall my OS, thus losing my HTML converter until today... 

Agloechen: Heh. Thanks for your support! I hope you enjoyed this chapter... I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, though.

Embyr-Dragon: Kaity! Heehee. When are you going to post that Christmas fic—or have you, already? I must check. Everyone go read Kaity's excellent Harry/Ginny-ness. 

LogicalRaven: May I just say I _love _your penname? Sorry for the shortness. Keep reading!

Liv: Thanks! Although JKR would probably rather hire someone who hits like the Rock to come after me for my lackadaisical disclaimers. All hail JKR, all hail JKR...

Pheep: Pheep! XD Thanks for your review. Gah, WLD keeps dying. No thanks to me, I know, but... we must revive it.

Crimson Solitaire: Thanks so much! And I've just read your latest chapter of Life River—excellent, as per usual. I'll update; provided you do! J 

Please review! I'm desperate to know just _how _much this sucks.


End file.
